


hope is the thing with feathers

by fflewddur_feanorion



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fflewddur_feanorion/pseuds/fflewddur_feanorion
Summary: Maglor jumps into the sea. Maedhros casts his jewel into a fiery chasm and wanders Middle-Earth... but wanderers can't stay lost forever.
Relationships: Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë, Maedhros | Maitimo & Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	hope is the thing with feathers

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be all dark and angsty... but it just kept going and the fluff found its way in somehow.  
> Title is from the poem

Maglor stands on the precipice. His feet are bruised and bloody from climbing, and his hair is loose, whipping around his head. The freezing wind seems to blow right through him. “Go away, Mae!” he shouts, his voice raw. “I know what I’m doing.”

“No!” Maedhros shouts back. He’s running, scrambling up the rocky terrain, but his remaining hand is still red and raw. He can’t move fast enough. It’s already too late. “Kàno, look at me. You don’t have to do this!”

“Yes I do,” Maglor says. He has a beautiful voice, but now it only sounds broken and quiet. Maedhros has to strain his ears to hear him. 

“How did you do it?” his brother asks. “When  _ you  _ lost everything, how could you keep going? How did you not go mad?”

Most days, Maedhros thinks he  _ did  _ go mad. But this isn't the time to bring that up. “I didn’t lose everything,” he says. (How many times has Maglor reminded him of this?) “I still have you, and you still have me. Get down from there,  _ please _ .”

Maglor shakes his head, backing up. His feet slip on the wet stone, but he doesn’t fall. “All I had was my voice,” he says. “That’s the only good thing I’ve ever had. And what did it matter, in the end? I never  _ used  _ my voice. Not when it really mattered. I couldn’t save Father, or the twins. I couldn’t even save  _ you. _ ”

“That’s not your fault!”  _ Just keep him talking. He’ll snap out of it. Right? _

Maglor is still rambling. “You always were stronger than me,” he says. “So promise me you’ll  _ stay _ strong. That you’ll stay alive. Destroy that damned jewel and… and make things right.” He’s shaking all over now, trembling like a leaf. 

“Kàno, you’re not making any sense!” Maedhros is almost there. Just twenty more feet. His hand is bleeding, scraped raw, and it  _ should  _ hurt but he doesn't feel anything. “I promise, okay? I promise I will.  _ Please _ !”

“I’m sorry,” Maglor says, and steps backward.

“ _ No _ !” Maedhros rushes to the edge of the cliff. His feet almost slip, and he flails his arms to stay balanced. Maedhros looks over the edge, hoping against hope that Kano is still there, still alive. Elwing had leapt into the sea, and  _ she  _ had survived-- maybe his brother can, too. 

But Maglor is gone. There’s only the sea, and the wind, and a broken harp lying on the rocks. 

Maedhros was the first Feanorion. Now, he is the last. 

***

He throws the accursed jewel into a fiery chasm. There’s a moment, standing on the edge, where he almost jumps in after it.  _ Fitting, _ a voice in his head says.  _ Feanor’s heir, perishing in fire.  _ Hasn’t he always wanted to be like his father?

But he’s taken another oath now, whether he likes it or not. This one is not sworn to any higher powers-- he’s learned  _ that  _ lesson at least-- but it’s for Maglor, and maybe that makes it even stronger. 

_ Live _ , says his brother’s voice. And Maedhros does.

***

The Second Age passes by in a blur. Maedhros takes to wandering the beach aimlessly, Maglor’s harp strapped to his back. When he needs supplies, he stops at Mannish settlements-- as long as he stays away from Numenor, they don’t know enough of “elvish history” to fear him. (He can’t go near Numenor anyway, not while Elros is there, even though it's been several hundred years and he's probably dead by now. Damn mortals and their short lives. Damn the Valar for forcing such a choice on his sons--  _ hostages. _ They were hostages. Maedhros needs to remember that.) 

He’s at one of these settlements when Elendil’s ships come bearing the news. Maedhros hasn't seen a ship coming from the west since… well, since Alqualonde, and he's curious. Against his better judgement, he joins the crowd. There are seven ships, all bearing… are those Numenorean banners? They're so tattered and soaked, it's hard to tell. The passengers begin to disembark, stumbling onto dry land like they've just sailed through a typhoon.

Then, a tall Man steps off the largest ship. Just like the others, he looks exhausted, but his grey eyes are bright and somehow familiar. Maedhros stares.

Oh, yes. He  _ definitely  _ looks familiar.

He looks like  _ Elros. _

Maedhros turns and runs, pushing through the crowd in a panic. When he's been running for several minutes, he leans back against a tree and closes his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says to no one in particular. And oh, he  _ is. _ He's done so much wrong. Murder, kinslaying, kidnapping… the list goes on and on. Maglor made him promise to make things right, but how the  _ hell  _ is he supposed to--

A strange noise interrupts his thought process. Maedhros realizes that his teeth are chattering-- it's  _ freezing  _ out here. He should probably make a fire.

Maedhros picks up a few sticks, but the ones in the ground are soaked. He tries to break off a tree branch, but his hand slips off the bark and it springs back.

" _ Ow _ ," says the tree.

Maedhros stares. A tiny figure pushes back the branches and glares at him. "That  _ hurt _ ."

"Sorry. I was… I was trying to make a fire."

"Can I help?" The figure hops out of the tree-- they're a Mannish child, Maedhros realizes. "It's so cold, but I don't know how to make fire. I'm Ela, by the way. Whoa, you're really tall. Don't you ever hit your head on ceilings?"

"Yes, sometimes. And yes, you can help," Maedhros says without really thinking.  _ Oh, no _ , he realizes.  _ I can't get close to them-- to anyone. I've already doomed so many people...  _ But Ela is shivering now, and their lips are blue. He can't just let them freeze!

"Oh, fuck it. Put this on." Maedhros pulls the blanket out of his bag and hands it over. "Now. What were you doing hiding in a tree?"

"I… I…" The child's lip trembles. "I was looking for my sister. She told me not to go too far, cause there are monsters in the woods, and I  _ didn't _ ! But all the trees look the same!"

Maedhros thinks for a moment. "All right. How about you warm up for a bit, then we'll go find your sister."

Ela is unconvinced. "What about the monsters?"

"They're all scared of me. We'll be fine."

This is the wrong decision, Maedhros is certain of it. It will end in death and darkness, just like everything else he's done. 

But Maglor told him to make things right-- and he has to start  _ somewhere,  _ after all.


End file.
